Daughter Mine, Father Mine
by Vader's Fallen Angel
Summary: Vader and Leia introspections through out the original trilogy.
1. ROTS: Daddy's Girl: Anakin

Prologue

I smile and nuzzle into my angel's hair. I reach around to pull her close to me. My smile grows as my arm finds a new obstruction. You. I run my hand up and down the perfectly round belly that has been your home for the past nine months.

I already know you're a daughter. My little girl.

I told Padme this earlier and she laughed at me. She thinks I just want a little princess to spoil. I admit I already have images dancing in my head of a little angel around the apartment. Flowers in your hair and running to greet me when I get home. A grease streak across your cheek as you explain to me the inner workings of the swoop bike you've so lovingly created. You and your mother talking about everything from politics and the running of the universe to boys and make-up. Hmmmm. On second thought, forget boys. I don't even know you yet and I already know no boy will be good enough for my princess.

Daughter mine I can't wait to meet you. I prop my head up on my hand and watch the moonlight play across your mother's face. I hope you will look like her. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, a way of glowing from within... That's why I thought she was an angel when I first met her. Not because she was beautiful, though she was certainly that. But because she has an aura, a feeling of being ethereal. Around her I feel peace, comfort, acceptance, serenity, hope…

Hope. In this war-torn universe hope is not easily found. But you, daughter mine, are our hope. Little one I love you already. As I bask in the unconditional love I hold for you, an unexpectedly jolt of fear strikes me.

I have no father, how am I supposed to be one?

I recklessly try to look into the future, but the images are confusing. Why is Bail Organa popping up? I don't think that Padme's that close with him and I know I'm not. Where's your mother? Why can't I See her anywhere? Now I'm getting hit with names of ships and planets that seem to have no rhyme or reason. Alderaan, Bespin, Hoth, Death Star, Endor, Millennium Falcon, Yarvin 4, Tatooine, Tantive IV… The last glimpse I get is of you celebrating with… Eworks? What?

I shake my head to clear it. Force help me but I couldn't understand a bit of that. But why was Padme never there? Why was I never there? I close my eyes and breathe deeply. They say the future is always in motion.

I won't let that be our future, me never present. I promise you daughter mine that I will be the best father ever. Just wait and see.


	2. ANH: I Know Who You Are: Vader

I know who you are.

Did they really think I wouldn't figure it out? You look too much like your mother and I have not forgotten my bride so quickly. That combined with: your force power, your birthday, the fact that you're not only adopted but by one of _her_ closest allies… I may have been stupid enough to jump on Mustfar, but I'm not so mentally deficient that I can't put it together. I didn't need all those clues in truth. I could sense it. I could sense _you_. I can sense your brother.

I wonder if you know about Luke. Did they hide him from you to try to stop me from learning of him? No matter.

I have not broken into either of your minds, but I know about you both anyways. We are bound by blood after all. Our family's force connection cannot be denied. It was what let me hold you with unseen arms when you cried and take some of your pain as my own. It let me rejoice at your triumphs and send my silent rush of pride. I have watched you both carefully, daughter mine, never approaching you, never claiming my right to you. If I did Sidious would find you. I have no illusions on how that would turn out. As a Sith I should hand you over to my master or turn you myself. That's what he expects I would do. He forgot, as the Jedi did before him, that I always put family first. I was a son before I was a Padwan, I was a husband before I was a Knight, I was a father before I was a Sith. You may have been born technically afterwards, but I still remember the joy, the preparation, the waiting… I considered myself a father from the moment _she _told me.

I love you daughter of mine. But the love of a Sith is a double edged blade, as beautiful as it is deadly. Like the oleander flower. Beautiful, enticing, but poisonous, safe only from a distance.

Three people ignored the lethality of my love. My mother – I abandoned her. My brother – I betrayed him. My wife – I murdered her.

I destroy all I love and corrupt any I draw close to me.

So I will pretend to hate you and never allow you close.

Your brother – he reaches out to me, calls for me even though he doesn't know I'm alive. I respond to him with whispered words. He is safe; he is out of Palaptine's sight.

You used to reach out to me too. How do you think you remembered your mother? I gave you some of my memories, what I knew of her. That's what you wanted to know, about her. Your brother wanted to know about me. I gave him dreams of flying. He still longs for me but you… you stopped calling for me many years ago. I will not seek you out daughter mine. You are my child, but I cannot lay claim to the title of father, not anymore.

Besides, you already have someone in that position.

I have to interrogate you now. I can't raise suspicions. If Palpatine knew of either of you he would either seek to turn or kill you. Luke I think would resist. If Sideous ever found out about your brother I would convince him to pursue that path. He is very much like _her_. You, defiant daughter of mine, are so proud, so bold, so much like… me. And I would not lead you to Hell for all of creation.

It is time. You look up at me with big brown eyes, round with fear. What can I do for you child? If I could be your protector, I would. If I could be your savior, I would. If I could be your hero, I would. If I could be your father, I would. But I can't. I may have sired you, but Bail Organa raised you, gave you the life you lead. The piece is written, the parts are cast, the curtain's gone up, and I have my role to play.

As do you.

As does everyone.

So be it.

I will torture you to keep you safe. I will block up your throat so you cannot speak no matter what they do so you will never have to know what it's like to be a traitor. I will make you cry tears of blood so no one will ever draw the connections, know that you are _my_ blood. I will be the villain so you can be the heroine. I will be the devil, so you can be the angel. I will make you hate me, so you will never be like me.

That is all I have left to give.


	3. ANH: I Know Who You Are: Leia

I know who you are.

In the beginning it was hidden from me. My caretakers always tiptoed around the subject of my birth parents. They told me that my birth parents were dead, but I also knew you were _there_.

There is someone else out there, someone like me. But I cannot for the life of me figure out who he or she is.

You used to talk to me, remember Father? I would go to sleep and reach out for you. And there you'd be, warm and welcoming. Yet, you were always elusive. My first clumsy comparison of you was in relation to my blanket, the one I burrowed into at night and kept me safe from the closet monsters. But I realized that it resembled you only in warmth and comfort. You were more like a summer wind – you could hold me, surround me, but I might as well have tried to hug my shadow.

I was happy with that, content with that for a while. I thought you were dead so I merely assumed, in some childish, undefined way, that you were able to talk to me from your new home. I felt so special that you loved me enough to come all the way from the golden fields of _Elysium_ just to be with me. Though with the blood on your hands Father, I now assume the black depths of _Erebos_ are more likely to be your sentence!

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was rather cruel. It's just that...

I remember the day it all changed. I revealed to Dad, Bail, what I knew about my mother. He questioned me and learned we had spoken. What he told me then… that you were alive Father, and that you must know about me. At first I was confused. If you knew of me, if you could come for me, why didn't you? All adopted children wonder if their birth parents loved them, wanted them, but when you were dead it didn't matter, you couldn't have kept me anyways. But now you were alive and knew about me. But you never acknowledged me as your daughter.

That's when I stopped reaching for you.

And you never reached for me.

These memories I have of my mother, they're your memories, aren't they? You loved her Father. I can feel it. But Dad told me what you did to her on Mustfar, right before she gave birth to me, and I could sense he was telling the truth. I tried to understand how you could hurt someone you loved so completely. Was it because of me Father? Did you try to kill her because you hated me, never wanted a child?

You loved her, but you hurt her. You held me, but never came for me. Am I merely a remnant of her? Taken care of because I am what she left behind, but never cared for because not only am I unwanted but I live when she does not. Am I an object she loved and left that you value in her name only: a prized vase that you take a moment to dust here and there or a favorite figurine that occasionally needs polishing? Do you imagine that you can somehow gain her forgiveness by whispering her name in my dreams?

I was told that I am my mother's daughter. I remembered what you showed me and looked in the mirror. It showed me that I was given her appearance. She and I were both politicians, we both fought for the same causes. But we are very different too. She had graceful stubbornness, gentle diplomacy, refined dignity, and inner, hidden strength – steel hidden tenderly beneath soft drapes, tested and true, the fabled unmovable object. She was like the waters of her home world; soothing, deep, and powerful. But I am your daughter too. My name means fire-child Father. Did you realize just how right you were? We are fire, you and I. We have bold defiance, barely-leashed tempers, majestic bearings, and brazen, arrogant power – velvet, deadly daggers, thinly veiled danger, the legendary unstoppable force.

Fire-child indeed. I wondered for a time if you had deliberately named me after yourself. But of course not. After all, I am Princess Organa, neither Leia Skywalker nor Lady Vader. I am adopted by Bail Organa, but not born to you.

It's almost time. I can feel the change in the air, can feel my hair rising. I was always sensitive to the world around me. Another trait inherited from you I suppose. Will you torture me yourself I wonder.

I am afraid.

I can handle interrogation, I was trained to do so and my force power, (_your_ force power) makes it near impossible for someone to take information from me that I don't want known. But I am afraid of what will happen if you come. What if you are the one to hurt me, or worse? What if you enter and call me your child? What if you ask your daughter to help you? What if you call upon our family connection? Will I give in, or resist? Will I choose the values of my first family or my second? Will I betray my birth father or my adoptive father?

I have decided. Always we have met in public; always you have called me princess, the title I was granted through adoption. But here in private, where no one else will ever have to know, don't. Call me Leia. I know you were the one to choose my name. Or label me Skywalker or Vader - I don't care which of your names you give me. Call me daughter and I will call you Father. Blood of my blood, acknowledge me as such! Grant me this one gift in the place of the love you never held for me! Please, call me yours just once; tell me that you are my father just once; satisfy my longing just once! Afterwards do as you wish, it will not matter. All I need is one moment to belong.

If not I will learn the only lesson you bothered to teach your unasked for progeny. And I will learn it well.

I will hate you Father, if that is what you want.

It won't be hard.

All I have to do is convince my heart to live just one more lie.


	4. ANH: Pretend: Vader

Suspicion. That's the first thing I feel when I hear Tarkin saying that he has a new way of convincing you daughter mine. We've just arrived at Alderaan… but surely not. Alderaan is a powerful core world. I know he has not contacted the Emperor, and without a question he would need my master's permission to destroy such a planet. And he wouldn't dare… but he would. He is determined to succeed where I failed. The fool thinks that somehow he can take my position as second highest in the Empire. He can't of course, but he is ambitious and sees the throne as his in the future. I do believe my master finds him mildly entertaining. I, however, am not so amused.

Fear. He sends two stormtroopers to fetch you. I love you daughter mine, and love always comes hand-in-hand with fear. I leave, but choose at the last minute to escort you. I need to be with you. My breathing is even, as always, my helmeted head is expressionless, as always. No one sees my heart. Hero With No Fear indeed. It seems I have just exchanged one mask for another. I will not say, "don't worry" child, but I will say, "stay strong". Whatever happens, daughter mine, I will be there, I promise. We have arrived, and far too quickly.

Pride. You never give in, do you child? Though I am no dog to be lead about on a leash, and I'll thank you for not saying so. Tarkin taunts you and you snap back without losing your cool. If I could I would laugh, and throw in a few comments of my own. Instead I just stand here looking intimidating. I've become quite good at that I find. I can sense when you lie of course, though I do applaud your acting skills daughter mine. Tarkin believes you, but if the Rebel base is on Dantooine, there's a flood happening on Tatooine.

Horror. I was expecting this; I didn't think that he would so easily ignore the lure of a demonstration of this magnitude. But even guessing what was to be didn't mean I was prepared for it. As a Sith I don't care, should anticipate it in fact, but as a father I care how it will effect you. Automatically, numbly, I reach out and grab your shoulder.

Helplessness. I hold you back child, wishing I could hold you instead. I wish I could stop him, but I can't do anything. I could stop him for a few days, but the Emperor would reorder it if only to remind me who holds the power doing nothing in the end save threatening my position, having him inquire why I would do such a thing for _you_ daughter mine, and perhaps causing It to be unleashed on Naboo as well. The Dark Side was supposed to give me power, so why was I always helpless to protect those I love?

Pain. I automatically fling up all the walls I have built over a lifetime of slavery and war. But I instantly change my mind. I seek out Luke's mind and wrap around it, blocking out what is about to happen. He feels closer than I expected. Has he suddenly begun training in the Force, or did he get off Tatooine? I don't have time to analyze that right now. I next guard your mind as much as I can. I won't be able to stop it completely, you're too close to the tragedy, but at least I am able to block some of it from you daughter mine. Now _I_ am vulnerable to the full force of a million deaths and am as close as I can be without dieing myself. I'm nearly brought to my knees, would be if my cybernetic limbs didn't lock in place. I have not felt such pain since – but I can't think of that right now or I'll break for certain.

Hatred. I swear I will snap Takin's neck for this. I feel my power in the dark side leap and my eyes turn yellow, as I fantasize about killing him, no torturing _then_ killing him. He thinks I cannot break a being because of my so-called failure with you daughter mine. But we shall see how long he lasts under a vengeful Sith Lord! Who needs a droid when I can rip into his mind, bring to life his most horrifying nightmares, force him to constantly relive his worst memories, introduce him to some of mine, make him think that he's lost a limb, that he can't breathe, he's burning alive on the blackened shores of Mustafar – my satisfying train of thought breaks off as you speak. Daughter mine, how strong you are, your voice holds not a tremor. I escort you out, for a moment putting aside my Sith self to become your father again.

Shame. I bottle up my hatred, my anger, my fear, and force them back. I lock them away with my other memories of the same type. When I need a burst of power I shall call for them again, resurrect this experience but that is not now so I push them away. But in their place shame comes creeping in. When I walk you back, I wonder for a moment why everyone does not suddenly realize our relationship daughter mine. We walk in step, our heads held high, our backs straight, commanding respect with our very presences, hiding our horror and pain. Child, how I wish I could have done more, could do more. But for all I am, for all my power, all I can do is stand back and watch your pain and pretend your silent screams aren't ripping me to pieces as I turn away and leave you in your cell.

I feel you reach out for me, just like you used to when you were little. My response is almost automatic. Without thinking, I wrap invisible arms around you. I hold you and let you cry on my shoulder. Soon, precious daughter mine, your tears will dry and you'll draw away again. Soon you shall regain your strength and have no more need of me. But until then, I shall take all of the pain I can from you. I will murmur nonsense words of comfort. Though you will not be able to understand the meaning, I shall very softly sing the lullaby that my mother would sing to me when I cried.

My steps do not falter, everyone sees a Sith Lord stride by them, your guards watch with perverse pleasure as the ice princess breaks down in her cell. (I make note of their force signatures for the next time I have one of my fatal temper tantrums.) No one connects us. Everyone sees Sith Lord and Rebel Princess. No one sees father and daughter. Everyone sees enemies. No one sees family.

I suppose that what they see is more accurate.

But here, now, in the bloodstained depths of my denied heart, I can pretend.


	5. ANH: Pretend: Leia

**A/N First, there are a few parts in here where Leia seems to be inching toward the Dark Side. As much as I like stories where one or both of the Skywalker twins become Sith, we will be sticking with the original trilogy. Second, I paid homage to my favorite musical in here – fellow fans might recognize it.**

Suspicion. That's the first thing I feel when the stormtroopers come for me. What could I be needed for? I walk between them with my head held high, noble and proud. I must admit I'm surprised when you join us Father. So are my escorts, but they, like I, know better than to say anything. I stretch out my feelings slightly and feel your apprehension. Where I was cautious before, now there are alarms going off in my head. I fancy for a moment that you send me a brush of encouragement Father, but I quickly squash the thought. I am not four anymore, I will not play pretend. This is the real world and I need to keep my eyes opened and marshal my strength, not retreat into my mind and play make-believe, chasing illusions and dreams hither and thither.

Fear. I see Alderaan out the window. I know what the Death Star does, but he wouldn't, he couldn't! Alderaan is a powerful core world, we're peaceful, we have no weapons…Father, tell me he wouldn't! I try to push my fear away, but it is clearly not going anywhere. I change tactics, using my fear instead of trying to suppress it. My fear leads me to anger which fuels my defiance and gives me strength. I vaguely hear a voice telling me that fear leads to the Dark Side. Whoever believes that has clearly never met you Father. I can't imagine you ever being afraid of anything.

Pride. I mock Tarkin. I am Lady Vader by birth and Princess Organa by adoption and I will not cower before such a man! How heroic he is, how brave, to face a nineteen-year-old surrounded by his men with my father near by, while I stand handcuffed. Oh bravo! I am so overwhelmed I can't even fall to my knees in supplication. At least I get a chance to insult him a bit. But he holds all the cards and he knows it. I will not give in! Dantooine is what I tell him. I can pull it off, if you don't give me away Father. I know you can sense such things. I feel a touch of amusement from you, but you say nothing. What a foolish man Tarkin is, to pit himself against me when my family stands behind me.

Horror. No! Please Force no! Father stop him, help me, please. Do something, anything! You cannot possibly hate me this much to just stand here and – no! He can't! We don't – he said – I – NO!

Helplessness. I can't do anything. I was almost always able to. That's why, as a child, I wanted to grow up quickly so I could _do_ things. I was a princess, so I had enough authority to help the people of my planet. I ran for senator so I could help change the universe. That's one reason I joined the Alliance. So I could help everyone, give them back the freedom the Empire took away. Why now, when it matters most, am I helpless to protect those who need me?

Pain. I can feel a bit of their pain. But you're blocking some Father, I can feel it. Why? It's my fault. All my fault. Let me feel their pain in full! If I can't save them at least let me experience it with them. All my fault. Why won't you let me suffer now, when I deserve it? You had no desire to protect me before. It's, it is… done. It's over so quickly. It doesn't seem right that something this big can happen this fast. The universe has just been forever changed, and yet, it was over before I could blink. How long did it take, a minute, a second? Did they suffer much, or was it too sudden for them to even realize what had happened? Did they even have time to scream? Or were they cut off mid sentence, mid laugh, mid tear?

Hatred. If my hands were not bound I swear I would prove my heritage by strangling Tarkin here and now. So smug, so proud. He can say a word, and instantly lives are snuffed out. Do he lack the courage to do so himself, to push the button or pull the lever? Could he go further? Could he look in those eyes and know that he was killing someone's parent or child, someone's brother or sister, someone's friend or lover? Of course not. It's far easier to stand back here and not see, not know, not feel. Then he can feel proud. Then he can know he did "good" in the service of his bloodthirsty emperor. A million is just a statistic after all. I draw myself up and shoot him a glare that would subdue every planet from Tatooine to Naboo. And as his smile slinks off his face I cut at him in a voice cold enough to transform Mustafar into Hoth.

Shame. As we leave the powerful, exhilarating hatred slips away and I feel week in its absence. We walk in step, our heads held high, our backs straight, commanding respect with our very presences, each of us masking our hearts. You were right to abandon me Father, for today I have proved myself your daughter. Those who took me in, those who trusted me, those who raised me, I repaid them in the same fashion you did those who took you in, who trusted you, who raised you. Alderaan is gone, and the Jedi temple burned. It seems Father, that we are cursed to destroy all who love us. Perhaps you are wise then, to not allow me close. How easy it would be if I could just hold to my earlier vow and learn to hate you. But I can't. I suppose I deserve all the pain anyways. My fault... I wonder... Do you feel the same Father, that you deserve all the horrors the universe can deliver? They can clone people – surely they can heal you. Have you chosen to keep the constant torment as a self-imposed punishment? For the Jedi temple, for your betrayal of your home and family? Or is it a penance for some other sin, some other murder or betrayal, you consider even more unforgivable?

I enter my cell, as untouched as always. But when the door hisses shut I crumple. I manage to make it to the bench/bed before I collapse completely. I huddle in the corner, not moving save to tremble slightly. I feel like a bird that has bashed itself against the palace window and that, still stunned, is picked up by a human hand and somehow hopes to save itself by its immobility.

You leave and I feel you getting further and further away… Suddenly, without conscious thought, I reach for you. I desperately cry out for my father with all the instincts of a frightened child. Immediately I feel warmth surrounding me, holding me. A rich, baritone voice, your voice, murmurs softly, telling me that I don't always have to present my mask of strength, that, princess or no, I don't always have to wear duty like a crown of thorns, and that sometimes, now, it's all right to cry. I clench my eyes shut as the tears force their way past my blocked throat. As you whisper a hazy, dream-like image floats in. In a humble hovel there is a boy, half hidden in shadow, with blond hair dulled by dust, listening to a careworn woman in coarse brown robes as she brushes a cracked, calloused hand over his forehead. But I barely notice the poverty I'm so taken in by the _love_. She is singing to the boy, a song in a language that I can't understand. Then it seems her soft voice and your powerful one begin to overlap and blend and merge until they harmonize. At first I try to translate, but quickly release the desire in favor of simply drifting in the comfort.

When I open my eyes I will be bombard with harsh reality. I will be in a stark, white cell. Alderaan will be gone. Everyone will be dead. Home will be nothing but a fading memory. I will be surrounded by aspiring demons. You will still be there, helping and harming me in turn. So I keep my eyes closed for they will only tell the truth and the truth isn't what I want to see. In my mind it is easy to pretend that the truth is what it ought to be. In my dreams you and I are openly Father and Daughter, not Sith Lord and Rebel Princess. We are family, not enemies. I don't want to return to the real world just yet Father. I am strong, I am practical, I will face the universe soon enough.

But here, now, in dreams and shadows, I can pretend.


End file.
